Fifteen Years Later
by Hollywood Here We Come
Summary: "You know what isn't fair?" Peeta begins, "It's not fair that you spent so much time, sacrificed so much of yourself, to fight the Capitol, and yet you're still letting them control you." Fifteen years post-Mockingjay.


The sun is long gone. Shadows of trees, cast by the moon, dance across the wall and they remind me of the life I used to have, when I spent my days hunting and trying to keep my family alive. I don't know exactly what time it is now but I know it's late, and I know that on a normal night I would already be resting in the shallow sleep that I've become accustomed to since the war ended. But this is not a normal night.

It's been fifteen years since the reaping. Tonight, the turn of midnight marks the anniversary of the beginning of the most pivotal, tragic and emotional years of my life. And so naturally, I'm wide awake.

Beside me is Peeta, his breathing rhythmic and slow. I know he's not asleep because the memories still haunt him, too. I roll over to face him and find his blue eyes open; he offers a half-smile, the kind that always makes my chest tighten and my own face to break into a smile.

"Fifteen years," he murmurs, moving his arm so it rests beneath his head. His other hand strokes my arm gently, calming the angry memories that want to surface in my mind. I focus on the way the moon reflects in his eyes, the feeling of his fingers moving over my skin. The memories sink away.

"Hard to believe it's been that long," I manage. His breath is warm as it hits my face. He stays quiet for a while, and I can hear the faint beating of his heart. The heart that stopped all those years ago and was restarted by Finnick.

Peeta senses the anguish rising in me and shifts so his body even closer to me, cradling me in his strong arms. I burry my head in his chest and try to push the images away. Finnick breathing the life back into him. Finnick saving my ownlife. Finnick giving up his life...

I clench my eyes shut, but I still can't escape the vision of Finnick's body being torn apart by the Capitol's mutts—the pale, lizard-like monsters with their hauntingly human features. I force myself to focus on warm body next to me, the one that made it through everything despite the odds against him. Gradually, my breathing slows and I regain control of my thoughts.

"You think too much," he says finally, his fingers running through my hair.

"I have a lot to think about," I remind him. I'll never understand how he can be so calm when the flashbacks take over my thoughts so often. He has always been the stronger one, I guess.

"We both do," he says softly, tucking loose hair behind my ear. "The difference is that Snow erased all emotional attachment I had to the things that still haunt you." His face gets that far-away look, the one that he gets when he thinks about his days in the Capitol. I bring my hand to his face, stoke a finger across his cheek, and wait for him to return to me. It doesn't take him nearly as long as it used to.

He doesn't elaborate on his statement, nor does he explain his short flashback, so I choose to let both subjects drop. No point in pushing it if he doesn't want to talk. He props himself up on his elbow in a sudden, rapid movement, and rests his jaw on his hand.

"Fifteen years, and what do we have to show for it?" he asks. I want to say, _a peaceful country where children are not sacrificed for our entertainment, a District where people have enough to eat,_ but I know this is a rhetorical question. I know where his thoughts are, and close my eyes against the topic. We've had this conversation many times in the past. And so I don't reply.

He anticipates this, and shifts so his whole body straddles over me. Fifteen years and he still has the power to evoke powerful waves of desire deep within me with such little effort. I open my eyes and meet his ice blue gaze, just inches from my face. I fight to push back the feelings stirring in me.

"No, Peeta." The words are a struggle, because I can feel every curve and angle of his body hovering just above me. He knows the effect he has, and presses even closer.

"Katniss," he murmurs, and for a second, I'm completely captivated by the way his lips form my name. I'm distracted, which I know is what he wants.

"I can't... do it," I tell him, trying to focus on anything but the feel of his body over mine. He sighs, clearly frustrated, and buries his face in my neck.

"Why not, Katniss?" his voice hums against my skin. "It's been fifteen years. The Games don't exist anymore... there's no danger."

I sigh, too, and tangle my fingers in his hair. I pull his head up so he faces me again, and I can feel my resolve crumbling.

"I can't bring a... a _baby—_" the word feels awkward to say, because I can't even begin to imagine myself with one— "into this world knowing what cruelty people are capable of. It wouldn't be fair."

He blinks once, twice, leans down and presses a heartbreakingly gentle kiss on my lips, then rolls back onto his side of the bed.

"You know what isn't fair?" he begins, "It's not fair that you spent so much time, sacrificed so much of yourself, to fight the Capitol, and yet you're still letting them control you." He stops there, lets his words sink in. "There will always be evil in the world, Katniss. But you can't let that stop you from living your life."

As I stare into his eyes, the eyes that have followed me through almost every difficult thing I've done since volunteering for my sister all those years ago, I realize that he's right. I gave up everything in my fight for the capitol. No, not only me. Everyone I knew, everyone I cared about; they all did, too. And here I am, fifteen years later, still afraid to do something because of the world I grew up knowing.

That world is gone. We defeated it. We set ourselves free from the horrific injustice that reigned our lives back then. And yet I'm still being controlled by it.

My attention is drawn back to the strong, warm body beside me. Peeta. The one who I rely on to shake me from my stoic mindsets and point out things that should be obvious. The one who has been pleading for over a decade for a baby. Who I've said no to for just as long.

He sees the change in my face, because he's always been the observant one. His mouth tilts up into that half smile again, and I know that this is it. He has finally changed my mind. I know that from this moment on, my life will be dedicated to protecting any child that he and I bring into this world.

Another shudder at the thought.

He's smiling as his lips press into mine again. And this time, I smile, too.

* * *

><p>Hello, new fandom! Well, not necessarily new... but new for me fanfiction-wise. I'm not sure how my writing measures up to the rest of the amazing writers here, but I hope you like my story. Please let me know! Thanks for reading.<p> 


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